


Unexpected guests and consequences

by SrebrnaFH



Series: Srebrna's Sherlock AUs [4]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Chameleon Circuit, Established Relationship, M/M, Time Lord John Watson, Time Lord Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 01:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16630451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SrebrnaFH/pseuds/SrebrnaFH
Summary: A blue police box shows up in the middle of 221B living room.And the bloke inside has some news for our boys.





	Unexpected guests and consequences

**Author's Note:**

> All because of NaNoWriMo. I'm supposed to write my original novel, so of course my brain is getting bombarded by oneshot ideas...

There was a police box right in the middle of their living room.

When Sherlock emerged from his bedroom (after-case collapse) John was already there, holding a mug of tea and sipping it slowly as he walked around the object.

“Hm,” he fetched himself the second mug and went in the other direction, eyes as close to the object as possible. “Interesting.”

“I’d say so. But did you have to put it in the middle of the room?”

He frowned at John, who was staring at the front (he assumed it was a front - there was a plaque on it) of the object with familiar exasperation.

“Why would you assume _I_ put it here?”

“Well, I didn’t, and I don’t see Mrs Hudson doing it, so by the simple process of elimination...”

“Don’t strain yourself, John. Your skills don’t lie in the area of deduction.”

“Well them, Mr Smarty Pants, if you didn’t plunk this police box - by the way, where did they find one, I thougnt these weren’t made anymore - in our flat, then who did? Lestrade, just to get back on us for that last paperwork SNAFU?”

“I don’t think any of our acquaintances had their hand in bringing this object in here,” Sherlock tapped the wood with his fingertips.

“Why would you say that?”

“Oh, John” a new voice said. “You see, but you don’t observe. Isn’t it what you always say, Sherlock?”

A thin man in a long brown coat was standing right next to them, in the open door of the box. Before he could utter another word, John had tackled him to the ground, pushing Sherlock away in the same move.

“I don’t know who you are, Mister, but I won’t let you touch him” he growled, tightening his hold on the stranger.

“Oi!” a redhead had peeked out of the box and was now looking at the first intruder with something akin to...

...to what John looked when he was staring at Sherlock, most probably.

“And didn’t I tell you, ‘not in the bloody living room’, ‘park around the corner and walk to the door like normal people’ and you said ‘normal is boring’. Well, here you are. Trying to sneak up on a soldier, of all people. So sorry,” she smiled at John. “Trying to weed the weird out of him, but it’s an uphill battle. Hi. Donna Noble. I suppose you’re John Watson.”

He took the proffered hand and shook it, while still maintaining his hold on the man.

“Hold him like this for a moment, he was asking for it,” she rolled her eyes. “He was being impossible, so I let him do what he wanted... Did you get your lesson then? Or should I ask John here to kick your ass a little bit, so that it finally sticks in your mind to listen to me when it comes to human beings and their reaction to large blue boxes?”

The man deflated a bit.

“ _Now_ you can let him go” Donna suggested. “You could have already, anyway, he is not dangerous - well, not in normal situations - but he deserved to be taught a little lesson.”

The man straightened slowly, pulling his suit down and massaging his neck.

“Forgot his bloody reflexes” he murmured. “Sorry about the mess, boys, but I thought landing here would cut down on the formalities. Hello, I’m The Doctor, I’m an alien, and this is my spaceship, TARDIS.”

“It’s a time capsule” Sherlock finally managed to interrupt them. “This one has been... stolen.”

“Borrowed,” The Doctor corrected him with a haughty sniff. “Or even more correctly, she had kidnapped me. So there.”

“You _stole_ a spaceship and you brought it _here_? What are we supposed to do with it?” John sounded a bit winded, but at least - Sherlock was happy for his level-headedness - wasn’t openly disbelieving. Probably all these SF movies had stretched John’s brain enough to encompass the idea of a spaceship...

“Why are you here?” he finally asked the man, at the same exact moment when John asked “Do you want a cuppa?”

“Of course they want some tea, they are bloody British” he snapped at his companion. “At least she is, as to him, I’m holding the judgement, but he sounds like someone from the North... Scotland? Desperately trying to talk like someone from around London - very good job on the accent, by the way - and yet, not the actual North of England, somewhere...” he found himself next to the sofa, so he flounced into it. “Now, tell me who you are, really. Because I keep having these dreams...” he frowned at the stranger. “And I see you in them. But you have a different face.”

“They had been in for too long” the man said to his friend. “We need to find their modules. The problem is, they can be anything... Do you have any items of importance that are _broken_?” he turned now to John and Sherlock.

“Mate, most of this flat is broken,” John gestured towards the shelves brimming with knicknacks.

“Oh... But something specific, like... like a box that doesn’t open or an old watch, or...”

“John has a broken watch” Sherlock couldn’t resist. “Why would you need it?”

“John, could you bring it? I need to see it.”

“No.”

John, for once, decided to be stubborn. Right there, middle of the doorway, feet set at shoulder-width, shoulder stiff, hands clasped behind his back.

_Ah, Captain Watson._

“Who the hell are you and what do you want with us, with our things and especially with my bloody watch?” John growled.

“Aaah. Here it is,” the strange man smiled at the redhead. “I knew he was down there somewhere!”

“Doctor, just... stop it. Not everyone loves to hear you talking of them like they are a specimen in one of your experiments!”

Sherlock was experiencing an overwhelming amount of flashbacks. Also, a migraine. John wasn’t looking any better.

“You two, explain yourselves, _now_.”

A delicious frisson of excitement went down Sherlock’s spine. The man from the box only rolled his eyes at John’s stubborn stance.

“You two are absolutely insufferable. Always have been. No wonder you found each other _again_ , you... you...”

“So you say they were not left like this on purpose?” Donna was smiling at them as if they were the greatest entertainment she had ever seen.

The stranger - Doctor - raked through his hair with both hands.

“Of course not. They were in different countries, they were never supposed to come into contact, they...”

“What?”

The flatness and tightness in John’s voice drew everyone’s eyes to him. He had lost his stiff posture and his left hand was shaking like a leaf.

His leg buckled and Sherlock was by him in a flash, holding him up, guiding him slowly into a sitting position. He experienced a fleeting feeling of astonishment when John’s right hand tightened on his wrist and his friend leaned into him, breathing spasmodically.

“I have no idea who you are and what you want from us” he said, not looking up at the intruders. “But you will leave now - don’t care how - and get your capsule out of our living room and never again importune us in this way.”

The man ignored his pronouncement and crouched by them with a worried frown.

“It’s his breathing bypass, trying to kick in” he said slowly. “You two had been under _much_ too long. Donna, go to their bedroom, use my screwdriver, _find that watch_!”

“There is no ‘our’ bedroom” Sherlock pointed out angrily. “John sleeps upstairs.”

Not that he would have protested if the situation was going to change, but that was neither here not there.

“You _what_? How long have you been here, together?”

Sherlock looked up at the Doctor and saw an honest expression of worry. Nothing else.

“Two years in January, so twenty two months. Why?”

“And you are still not... That has never happened before. Well, anyway. Donna, upstairs, find that bloody watch. Check nightstand, box under the bed, anything he has in his closet. Shoo!”

He chewed on his lower lip and finally extended his hand towards John, touching his chest, now fluttering with shallow breaths. There was a whirring sound and footsteps coming from the room above them, but he ignored that input, focusing on the stranger in front of them.

“John, listen to me. Listen to me, soldier. You are going to be fine. Just try to synchronise your breathing with Sherlock. Stop fighting it, or your heart will give in. You have only one now, we can’t afford letting it get damaged. Come on. Nice and slow. In... Sherlock, breathe, or he won’t know what to do ...out. In... out. Slow and steady. Just like this.”

Thumping on the stairs marked Donna coming back - that woman was so common that Sherlock still could not connect her in his brain to the man who... well, obviously wasn’t.

“I’m an alien” the man informed him in a distracted tone. “Donna is human, from Earth.”

“Are there other options?” John’s voice sounded weak and Sherlock had to stop himself from tightening his hold on the soldier.

“Well, right now, only a few. Wait a century or two and your bunch will be all over this galaxy. And a few neighbouring ones, too.”

“Well” John laughed and started to sit up. “Not like _we_ will see it, but it’s nice to know anyway. Oh...” he looked up at Donna, who sat down next to them, cross-legged, and was leaning towards them, holding his watch. “You found it then. Why is it... so important?”

The Doctor sighed.

“You two had been undercover agents, after a fashion. Or maybe sleeper agents. Not sure. Not in enemy territory - well, John was. What happened to get you back to London? No, wait. Injury. They _shot_ you? You were supposed to be a _medic!_ _”_

“Combat medic” John sighed and moved a bit, bringing his side... more into contact with Sherlock’s body? “Got shot when... never mind. How do you know about us? _What_ do you know about us?”

“You were both sent here in order to temporarily hide you from certain... powers. People who would have been interested in playing each of you against the other, or use one to manipulate the other. You have been inseparable since the Academy and... I am bungling this, right?” he looked up at Donna.

“Totally” she rolled her eyes. “He is a Time Lord. A type of alien. Not the same aliens as flying saucers, these are annoying little buggers. Humanform, as you can see, some differences inside - two hearts, backup breathing system - have seen him cheat on witch trials - and more neurons in one cubic inch of brain than I have in my whole body. Can taste and hear time. I am human, as he said, London, England, Earth. Local girl. He picked me up and we went for a spin, now I’m serving as public relations officer because his communication skills suck.”

He felt John shaking at that. _With laughter._

“Oi,” he scolded his friend softly. “Don’t you go drawing parallels!”

“Why? She is describing us to a T. Well, not the double heart part, but imagine you trying to cheat on witch trials. You totally _would_.”

He had to admit that. Yes, he would.

Donna handed John the watch and wrapped his hand around it.

“There is a trick his people use, when they want to hide their biological signature, they mimic local life form. Intelligent life form, of course. Humans are easy, the physiology is the same, don’t have to re-learn how to eat or go to the loo. He did it once, but you two are apparently on your second stint. This watch, if I guessed it right, holds John’s memories. When you open it, you will regain your old self and your proper bodily functions will kick in, including the breathing...” she glanced worriedly at her friend. “He thinks you’ve been stuck as humans too long and parts are leaking through. Sherlock, you said something about a time capsule, right?”

He glanced at the box in the middle of his floor.

“Sure. It has the chameleon circuit on, so it’s supposedly blending in, although why is it tuned in to the sixties, no idea. It has a perception filter, too, so we didn’t treat it as very unexpected to see... it... there...”

For the first time in ages he felt like his mouth was working completely independently from his conscious mind.

“Sherlock?” John’s wheezy voice attracted his attention back to the floor on which they were sitting. “What did you just...”

“No idea,” he admitted. “I...”

“Leaks. John’s body is responding first, his brain will catch up in a moment. Sherlock, your brain reacted first, but expect similar breakthroughs in the organism, soon. Focus now, do you have any old object that is seemingly broken, but could be decorated with this kind of pattern?” the Doctor showed him John’s watch and the circular engraving on the envelope.

“N-no...” he shook his head. “I don’t think so. But you are welcome to check my room...”

He was feeling worse with every passing minute.

Donna disappeared and a whirring noise was back, now in his own bedroom. It must have been some kind of detector... he shook his head.

"If we really are what you claim," he said slowly. "How come you are surprised to see us together? Why were we separated?"

"For your own safety" the man sighed. "You two, together, form a... a team, a partnership, that transcends time and space. People tried to separate you before, but you fight back towards each other. John... Well, I will use that name for him for the time being, it will be courteous to Donna. John has been known to unconsciously bend the rules of probability to get back to you. How lucky has he been this time?"

Sherlock frowned, looking down at his friend - more than a friend? - who was now resting, eyes closed, still breathing in sync with him.

"He was shot in Afghanistan, retired, moved back to London. Went for a stroll in the park, met an old Uni friend, chatted. They talked about John sharing a flat with someone. Said friend had heard me bemoaning my need of flatmate the day before. Not that I needed one for financial purposes - that's what I told John, but... well. Otherwise Mycroft would have never allowed me to... Wait a second. Mycroft. Who is he? If I'm some kind of special agent from... whatever, another planet, then Mycroft is _not_ my brother. Or is he also one of these agents?"

"Ah," the stranger cringed. "Tall, dark ginger, permanent scowl?"

"Beaky nose and propensity for umbrellas."

"Mycroft Holmes, yes. You have... a past. He is a UNIT liaison, one of the elite officers who manage extraterrestial contact events in Britain."

"What?" John sounded torn between laughter and disbelief.

"Got it!" Donna appeared in the corridor, carrying a snuffbox in her outstretched palm. "Also, I need a shower. Desperately. You" she pinned Sherlock to the floor with her glare. "Have you never heard of a vacuum cleaner, mister?"

John snorted, but quieted soon, focusing on his breathing.

Sherlock snatched his snuffbox out of Donna's hand.

"This is empty and I've never used it" he turned it over in his fingers. He didn't remember it being decorated with these circles - were they circles? - but it was, right on the bottom...

"You have to open them and just... let the memories get back to you. It's best done sitting down, but maybe not touching..."

Sherlock snapped the snuffbox open and with his other hand he pressed the button on John's watch.

"Sherlock, what are..."

"What's the worst that can happen?" he asked quietly. "You know we've been off recently, and if this doesn't work, we'll only have opened a watch and a snuffbox..."

_Oh._

_That felt different._

_There were places in his brain he never remembered using._

_His Mind Palace suddenly went into other dimensions. There was no way for it to be built in a reasonable 3-D fashion he had maintained until now._

_There were_ _**rooms** _ _in it, whole corridors of just him and his partner, running around, running towards the danger, in the thick of it._

_His brain hiccoughed._

_There was a luminosity somewhere nearby, something touching the surface of his mind, like a glove surrounding it carefully, cushioning it._

"Forming the telepathic bond again" someone said in a distance. "That's so beautiful I could cry."

"Why do your people keep trying to separate them?"

"They were too powerful together. Too dangerous. When they went into full meld, they transcended even out Council's ability to manage. They were thought useful, but too unpredictable."

"But... why find them, then? Wouldn't it have been better for them to just... stay like this?"

_John. John was a good name for what his partner embodied. Goodness, stability, proper values. Well, proper for them, not for these stuffed shirts in the Council. And oh, how they angered the elders. Refusing to let go, to be sorted into proper ranks. Scientist apart from the fighter. They found their back to each other again and again and again, twice under the influence of the chameleon circuit, to boot!_

_**we used to look different then** _

_Oh. The link was now formed and so their thoughts..._

_**you had the curls, but that five o'clock was atrocious. beard burn all the time** _

_You are the one to talk. You had a proper moustache then!_

_**well... that was expected of me, as an ex-military** _

_Poppycock. You were just trying to get your revenge for that time..._

_**I wasn't the one running around the flat in my shirt indecently unbuttoned halfway down my chest!** _

_Oh. Well._

_**and these open collars? cravats undone, scarfs and ties only there for show, never actually covering yourself properly? it's a wonder we weren't arrested!** _

_John..._

There was coughing somewhere nearby.

"Respiratory bypasses working."

"Are they waking up?"

"Minds still need a few minutes. They are in full meld, no idea what they are talking about."

_You were always so proper, shirts buttoned, ties perfectly tightened. Do you know how many times I wanted to unwrap you like a Christmas present?_

_**well, you did, finally** _

_That I did._

He opened his eyes finally, to see The Doctor and his companion watching them from the sofa curiously.

"Back with us, Seeker?"

He swallowed. Flexed his jaw. Squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again.

"There is something very wrong with her timelines" he said. "They are looped."

"OK, he seems fine. Soldier? You awake?"

His partner hummed quietly and pursed his lips.

"I feel an inordinate compulsion to punch you on the nose" he said without opening his eyes. "But I won't. Still, don't come too close to me in the next half hour, or you will get punched."

The Doctor sighed with a laugh.

"Now, you two, I need you to..."

"No" Soldier stood up in one fluid move. "Half hour. And you two better get into that capsule and repark it somewhere."

"What...?" Donna glanced at The Doctor in surprise. "You said they should come with us! We can't just leave them..."

"You can and you will. Because we've been stuck in these forms for over ten years" Soldier growled. "And what I need to do right now - and I mean _right now_ \- should happen without any witnesses. So, go."

He felt the blue, blue, bluest eyes measuring him up and down.

Donna squeaked as Doctor pulled her into the capsule.

"What are they...?"

"They've been apart for eight years and living in separate bedrooms for two. Guess what they are going to be doing _now_."

"But... we need them!"

The door closed with a resounding "snap" and the capsule soon disappeared.

"We have to tell him about the broken brakes" Seeker said softly.

"We will. But not now. Now..."

Seeker drew him closer.

"Let me" he pressed his lips into the greying blond strands. "Let me cherish you. We don't have much time, but let me."

He heard Soldier gasping and felt his tense body under his hands.

"You've been taking such good care of me, love, even without knowing us to be us" Seeker whispered. "Let me now."

The hard form in his embrace softened and the accepting warmth flew through their thought-link.

"Bed" the Soldier - sometimes named 'John' - whispered.

"Bed" the Seeker - but he would keep 'Sherlock', too - answered.


End file.
